Outtakes - Miseducation of Captain Swann
by h8erade
Summary: This is where I'm posting M rated outtakes from The Miseducation of Captain Swann


**_This little vignette is an added scene (I would say deleted scene, but it was written afterwards partly by request and partly because I needed to better understand what happened after my 'fade to black') to chapter 28 of the Miseducation of Captain Swann. A story which I'm trying to keep T rated._**

 ** _Here's a little context if you haven't read the rest of my story: This takes place after At World's End. Jack and Elizabeth have struck up a close friendship while regrouping at Shipwreck Cove after the maelstrom battle. They're taking a mini vacation on a nearby island with a gaggle of local children who want to spend time with their favourite Uncle Jack. What was planned as a day trip ends up as an overnighter when a storm prevents them from heading home as planned. An M rated scene ensues._**

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Chp M1

Drink with me. An invitation. With the candle out, it was so dark he had to feel his way past sleeping bodies to find her. He settled on the floor next to her and stretched his back against the wall. Thanks for helping with the kiddies tonight.

Her head was buzzing from the day. A little rum would help calm the waters. Their fingers touched when she took the bottle and tipped it to her lips. A small sip of liquor spreading its warmth through her veins. It was nothing, she said. You're good with them. They're lucky to have you in their lives. She rested her head on his shoulder and passed the bottle back to him.

The rain had started again. The patter of rain on the roof masked the sound of his sigh. He drank. I'm sorry we were interrupted. His arm looping around her waist. He pulled her close. His fingers playing with the edge of her shirt. It's been a long day. You must be exhausted. He said to give her an out.

So must you be. She drank. She didn't really want to be drunk. She just wanted drunkenness to be an excuse for what she really wanted to do. After all this time, all of the reasons she had for fending off his advances didn't seem to matter anymore. Perhaps she was done with grieving. Perhaps their dance had changed her mind. Perhaps she needed a distraction. Perhaps she was tired of giving a damn what other people thought, so she drank. Aren't you tired?

Yes. He wished there was more light. He wanted to see her pretty face. Fingertips brushing up her sleeve to her cheek. He smiled when she kissed his fingers as they danced across her lips. He drank from the bottle and traced her contours. But there's someone keeping me up.

She drank. It felt so good to be with someone. No, not just with someone, with Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack. She whispered his name like a prayer. Felt the bristle of his beard against her lips. Her arms seeking the warmth of his torso.

He pulled from the bottle. Blind in this darkness, everything by feel. His fingers finding her edges. He whispered sweet things into her hair. Bonita. I'm in love with the shape of you. I want you. His fingers wandering under her clothes.

She drank. Swung her legs across his lap and curled up in his arms. She leaned into his caresses. Devil may care. It didn't matter if Will was dead or not quite dead. It didn't matter that she was married or widowed. It didn't matter a whit that she was not (yet) married to Jack. It didn't matter that she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to marry again. It didn't really matter that she might be pregnant. That he was about to set sail in a few days and she might never see him again, didn't matter.

It mattered that she was with him. It mattered that she felt safe with him. It mattered that it felt like they were the only two people in the world when he looked at her. It mattered that when he touched her the rest of her yearned to be touched by him.

How could something that felt this right be wrong? He made her feel good. Beautiful. Desired. Loved. She wanted to feel these things. She deserved it. Didn't she?

He had proven himself a good man. That mattered. She trusted him. With her life. With her heart. She trusted him. She would give herself over to him. Every piece of herself that he was willing to take.

She drank. Felt a warmth that started in her core and flooded her body. She craved his touch. Felt him loose the sash under her shirt Coaxed him with her own whispers. I trust you. Stop talking. Kiss me. She straddled his lap. Her knees pressed against the wall. Her arms braced beside his head. Her mouth finding his. She let herself drown in his rum soaked kiss. He put down the bottle and helped her undo the buttons of her shirt.

He slipped the shirt off her shoulder and kissed her bare flesh. Her sash slithering down to her waist. He held one small breast in each hand and drew circles with his thumbs around her nipples. She stiffened under his touch, felt suddenly shy, and wondered if her body would be enough to satisfy a man as notorious and experienced as he.

His mouth found hers. His tongue slipped between her lips. Softness here, while other things grew hard. His hips bucking up against her. His hands kneading her breast. He pinched her her nipples gently at first, then harder until she gasped but she didn't pull away.

It was strange to feel pleasure in pain. Something Will never thought to do. He was always so gentle, as if he was scared she might break. But her body was strong and this rough handling by a rogue pirate had her finding his mouth and kissing him hard. He tasted like rum and ashes. She felt him smile. Hands fisting his hair, she drew him down to her. There was an urgency to her desire. Hips twisting to meet his rhythm.

Her breath quickened. She whimpered, pleading for some unknown thing in his ear. The something that she had sought when she and Will were young. That time they hid in a closet and she let him put his hand up her skirt. That time she felt the front of his pants grow hard in her hand.

That was just before Will was sent away to be a blacksmith. Before he cared more about propriety than claiming the heart that belonged to him. Damn him. How much time was wasted over propriety? How alone she felt when he was gone.

She pushed thoughts of her husband out of her head. Her hands ran under Jack's shirt and worked it up over his head. His hands caressing the cool skin of her bare back. She wanted him to hold her forever. She wanted him to love her. She wanted them to be one. Wrapped herself around him. Her tongue diving deeper into their kisses.

His hands sliding down to squeeze her buttocks. Her body paused when his thumbs pulled down her waistband. She wasn't ready. He slid his hands back around to her hips and guided them in a pounding rhythm against him. He slapped her ass, driving her to quicken her pace. Pleased at how she responded to the urgency of his need. She'd always been a quick study. He ducked his head down to capture a nipple his in mouth and suckled until she arched her back and moaned.

His touch warmed her to her core. She could feel her desire pooling hot and wet between her legs. Her body drawing taut as a guitar string. He was tuning her up. He was strumming her pain with his fingers. Strong hands plying her flesh with skill and experience. She felt tingles shoot through her, like a shower of sparks from the hearth.

The sound of her breath drove him wild. He nipped at her flesh to make her gasp. His calloused hands caressed her, drew her close. Felt her nails dig into his back as she ground herself into him. He'd always imagined she might be wild in bed. He wanted to lay her down. Take charge of her inexperience. Show her things that whelp never would have dreamed of.

He made to lift her off of him. To lay her down and finish the process of undressing her. She froze. Clinging to his neck, her body stiffened when he tried to move her. Her head resting on his shoulder, he felt her holding her breath.

She was having second thoughts. What was she doing? This was real life, not some fantasy. There would be consequences. Her head and heart filled with doubt. Jack Sparrow would be sailing in a few short days. She shouldn't squander this time with him. Yet they had made no promises to each other. She would be alone soon with no one left in this world to care about her.

Do you want to stop? his whispered in the dark. She shook her head no and kissed his shoulder. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her up gently to kiss his lips. Their tongues mingling. Tell me what you want.

She shrugged and shook her head. Didn't know how to put her desires into words. Didn't know how to shake the thoughts that were jumbling up in her head. Her fingers traced the scars on his chest. Her lips bent down to kiss them. Sweet and gentle like a mother would a child.

She was fascinated by him. Enraptured by his closeness. She could hardly believe that she was here. Girlhood fantasies of running away with pirates. Oh, how she had romanticized living free on high seas.

Here she was living the dream. She kept thinking she would wake from this. Find herself at breakfast with Will and her father. Spend her day doing frivolous things like buying shoes and fixing her hair. She would never have imagined lying half naked in the arms of Captain Jack Sparrow and letting him stoke her desire.

He was surprised to find himself overcome by the sweetness of her kisses. He loved how she felt in his arms. Small but strong, not some dainty breakable thing. But her stillness reminded him of how innocent she still was. Sex was never as frivolous an act for women as it was for men.

He settled them both into a more comfortable embrace. So we're skipping that part and going straight to cuddling. His voice gravely with desire. He reached for the bottle. Maybe this was for the best. He'd already drunk enough to soften his performance. She deserved only his best.

She burrowed her face into his shoulder. She felt relieved that he stopped. Some part of her wished that his lust for her drove him to lose control. She wondered if there was something inadequate about her, that Jack wouldn't force himself on her. It hurt to think she wasn't woman enough to satisfy him. Perhaps he was simply being a gentleman, a good man, a better man than most. She felt ashamed at her participation in this tryst. She would be blamed for leading him on. You're disappointed. Her statement hung like a question in the air.

He smoothed her hair and hushed her. Maybe he was disappointed that they didn't go all the way. But this night was unexpected. He hadn't brought her on this trip with the thought of bedding her. He just wanted to take her away from the harshness of life and see her smile. He drank until the bottle was done and she was fast asleep in his arms.

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 ** _If you liked this please favourite and review. I will likely be writing more M rated outtakes from_** The Miseducation of Captain Swann ** _and putting them here. No promises though. But feel free to follow if you've enjoyed this._**


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